Strongest Radioactive System

However, after the Death Monarch's lips twisted into a smirk and muttered, "Interesting…", as he clasped his hands together, readying to summon more of his dark necromagic, he froze.

His eyes narrowed in sudden alarm as a subtle tremor rose beneath him, something that felt alive—no, more than alive.

The sensation was raw, pure, and ancient.

He could feel its intent, a force like the earth itself surging toward him, emanating violence with an unstoppable, primal will.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him pulsed with an invisible rhythm, echoing from deep within, like a heartbeat turned weapon.

"Just an earth spell," he murmured dismissively, summoning a wave of low-level necromantic energy around himself as a shield.

The dark aura rose, forming a barrier around him in swirling shades of black and crimson.

He sneered, prepared to feel the reverberation dissipate harmlessly against his magic.

"Volsorana Acho-"

But then—whoosh!

He was not given a time to change as an echo pulse surged straight through his barrier, slipping past the dark energies as though they were nothing but mist before it.

The Monarch's smirk vanished, "huh?" his eyes going wide with shock as the force hit him directly, a pure and relentless blast of raw earth energy that he could neither redirect nor dispel.

BOOOOM!

The impact drove through his entire being with the violence of a landslide, an unstoppable force that tore through every cell, every thread of his existence.

He could feel it ripping through his veins, coursing through his blood like liquid fire, making each vessel strain, bulge, then erupt under the sheer pressure of it.

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His blood turned against him, boiling in his veins, searing his insides as it raced through his body with relentless, merciless force.

CRACK!

His bones splintered as if they were nothing more than dry twigs, fracturing under the weight of the tremor that coursed through him.

His limbs twisted, his spine arching as waves of energy blasted through him again and again, relentless and vicious.

The bones in his hands shattered first, his fingers snapping backward like fragile branches caught in a storm, the sharp pain shooting through him like lightning.

The echo tore into his muscles next, shredding each fiber with violent precision, turning sinew and flesh to pulpy masses.

His skin rippled as the energy burst beneath it, tearing it open from the inside out.

His stomach twisted, churning in agony as the raw magic invaded his organs, making him feel as though he were being eviscerated from within, his organs crushed and pulverized one by one.

And then it reached his head.

His eyes widened, pupils contracting in sheer terror as the force bore into his skull, compressing his brain within his cranium.

His vision blurred, then turned to red as blood vessels ruptured, pouring hot streams of blood from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

His jaw slackened, a guttural scream escaping as he felt his spirit itself being rent apart, the tremor vibrating his very soul, shaking it with a power that made it seem as if he might be shattered at any moment.

When the final wave of the tremor subsided, leaving his form a bloodied, trembling mess, he gasped for breath, HAAAAAAAH! each inhale rattling as though his lungs were struggling to stay whole.

The Death Monarch raised his head, his face twisted with a grotesque blend of agony and ecstasy.

Blood dripped from his mouth in thick rivulets, staining his teeth as he bared them in a twisted smile.

His hands twitches uncontrollably, still gripped in pain, yet he looked at Volk with a newfound glee.

The Monarch's laughter began low, a soft chuckle, but it quickly escalated, his maniacal laughter echoing across the battlefield.

"KHAHAHAHA! Oh, yes! So this is your secret, isn't it?"

His voice was trembling with exhilaration, an almost insane glee shining in his bloodstained eyes.

"You wield Earth Magic, and not just brute strength! And to my surprise, not just any Earth Magic—a spirit-bound magic of the earth itself! A power that attacks everything, everything, even the spirit! KHAHAHAHA!"

He paused to cough up blood, his whole body convulsing, yet his laughter only grew wilder, more unhinged.

"A magic that grows in strength with each entity it strikes, an echo that compounds and compounds, feeding on its own force, like a rolling avalanche that only grows in power! KHAHA! Every pulse, every tremor… it builds and builds!"

His voice was a madman's whisper, reverent and feverish as he stared at Volk, his eyes ablaze with a strange, twisted reverence.

"You—you are a weapon, a beautiful, brutal weapon forged from the earth itself! You think you are a warrior, but you are an instrument of annihilation, a tool of destruction like none I have ever seen! And now… I will make you mine!"

The Monarch's face contorted into a manic grin, his blood-streaked face a mask of grotesque delight.

"Together, you and I, we will tear through the realms! I had no interest in filthy creatures like you before, but now…" He tilted his head, his grin widening even further.

"You will be my hammer, my destroyer. We will crush everything beneath our feet, every realm will bow to us—every human, every creature, every god and spirit! We will bring this power, this earth-rending echo of yours, to every world. They will all fall!"

Hearing this, Volk's eyes flared, a storm of fury and defiance blazing within them.

His fists clenched, and his whole body seemed to pulse with rage, his muscles tensing like coiled springs ready to unleash their wrath.

"NONE SHALL ENSLAVE VOOOOOOLK!!"

He roared, his voice a titanic bellow that resounded through the battlefield, shaking the ground beneath him.

The Death Monarch sneered, his face twisted with smug amusement as he raised a finger and pointed at Volk, immobilized and furious.

"That's not for you to decide, ogre," he said with a voice that dripped with condescension.

He raised his hands, fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air, his voice dropping to a murmur as he began to chant.

The air around him grew thick, heavy with a dark and ancient energy, and the language he spoke was older than time itself, each syllable vibrating through the bones of every creature within earshot.

"By blood of bone and death's decree,

Let limbs fall numb, and spirit flee.

By night's embrace and cold decay,

All life and strength I now betray!"

The darkness pulsed out from him in waves, black tendrils snaking from the ground beneath Volk, spiraling up around his legs and torso, wrapping him like a relentless, icy vise.

The tendrils clung to his skin, slipping beneath it, twisting into his muscles, sending jolts of necrotic energy that felt like frozen iron piercing through his flesh.

The magic seemed to sapped his strength slowly, binding his immense limbs to the very earth, rooting him down with a weight that grew denser with each second.

His shoulders began to slump, his knees buckling as if carrying the weight of the mountains.

His breath came out in labored heaves, his lungs fighting against an invisible pressure that constricted his every movement.

"By silence's call and eternal night, Continue your adventure at empire

I steal your will and claim my right.

Bound you are to endless sleep,

Your soul, your might, I now do keep!"

The tendrils tightened, digging deeper, twisting into his very being, their freezing energy spreading through his veins like ice-cold poison.

Volk's mighty muscles strained, bulging against the restraints, but every surge of resistance only seemed to feed the dark magic, wrapping around him more tightly, sapping his will and forcing his powerful form still.

His arms lay pinned against his sides, his legs frozen mid-stride, his chest heaving in shallow, painful breaths as the Death Monarch completed his spell.